


I made up a world filled with diamonds and gold, just for you

by ThisBeautifulChaos



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Larry Stylisnon, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Older Louis, Secret Relationship, Shy Harry, Teacher Louis, University Student Harry, Writer Harry, Young Harry, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2905286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisBeautifulChaos/pseuds/ThisBeautifulChaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles has one simple wish. To graduate University and become a famous writer. But thanks to his roommate Niall, Harry is standing outside of Niall’s uncle's hair studio holding a sign to attract costumers. It isn’t until one night a car pulls up and two handsome men accuse Harry of being a streetwalker that Harry sees him. A beautiful lad with sparkling, blue eyes and feathery hair. Harry can’t seem to get him out of his head. The morning when Harry walks into english, (his favorite course) he sees he has a new teacher, Harry knew he looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It suddenly hits him that “Mr. Tomlinson” isn’t only his new english teacher, he was also the mysterious passenger from that night. As if it couldn’t get any worse. Mr. Tomlinson absolutely despise Harry’s writing he uses big words like unobjectionable and tolerable. Harry is strangely intrigued by him, and if Mr. Tomlinson remembers Harry from that night at all he absolutely doesn’t act like it. Harry knows that he should hate this man, but for some reason he just finds himself writing about him over and over again. But he fits in well, Harry usually writes tragedies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I made up a world filled with diamonds and gold, just for you

There were two things Harry Styles was absolutely sure of. One is that the group of teenage boys who passed by him and honked where not flirting with him at all. The second being that he hates his job. He really hates his job. It’s not like he actually asked for it, in fact it was given to him by his roommate Niall Horan. He loved Niall, don’t get him wrong, its just sometimes Niall opens his mouth a little too much, and Harry is too nice to say no. Because of his niceness that’s probably why he’s standing outside freezing his arse off and holding a huge cardboard sign that says.

Don’t drive by, come by! And get your haircut here at the Shear, Shave, and Shine. Rock your cut. 555-3427.

Niall’s uncle was kind enough to offer Harry the job. A job that Harry didn’t necessarily want. It all started back in the beginning of UNI when all Harry did was complain about how broke he was and how he needed work. One day Niall’s Uncle Chip came to visit bragging about his new shop Shear, Shave, and Shine. He had wanted Niall to come work for him, but he refused saying that family working with family would always cause problems. But lucky for Chip, Niall knew a great replacement for him. Harry. So now here he stands with rosy red cheeks, cursing Niall, and himself. Cars zoom by, carrying on with their busy lives, having no time on a Friday night to pay Harry any attention. No one was walking on the streets because it was December and beyond cold in London.

Harry lets out shiver and pulls his jacket over his blue lips. He looks inside the dimly lit hair studio. It was completely empty except for the few workers. Chip’s business wasn’t doing too well. He claims it’s because it’s new and not a lot of people know about it yet. Give him 6 months tops and the place will be busier than The Mayflower on a Friday night. 

Harry’s shift ends in 15 minutes and even though he had work again the next day he was still happy knowing he can go back to his dorm room and take a really hot shower. He sniffles and repositions his sign waving it lazily at the passing cars.

“Come on by!” He mumbles weakly to no one in particular. He rolls his eyes and props the sign on his hip. After the fifteen minutes was up he grabbed his sign and walked into the shop. Warm air hit him directly on the face and he breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Bye Helen.” Harry calls walking past the red headed receptionist. She smiles and lifts her hand in a wave. Harry nicely returns it and throws open the door. He stands on the corner and reaches into his pocket and digs around for his phone. He needed a ride back to his dorm, and forget his wallet for a cab. He sighs impatiently as he waits for Niall to answer. 

“Oi, mate what?” Niall says into the phone.

“Nice to talk to you as well, love.” Harry replies scoffing.

“Sorry, Harry its just that I’m kinda busy.” His voice is strained, and he sounds like he’s talking through his teeth.

Harry bunches his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean busy-”

He suddenly hears a girlish giggle coming from the other line. He stops talking.

“Niall, who’s over?” Harry asks, a frown forming on his lips. It wasn’t like Harry actually cared if Niall had a girl over. He just wanted Niall’s attention to be on him and to feel sorry for him because he was currently numb from the waist down at a job that niall made him get. 

“No one.” Niall laughs into the phone, a muffled noise comes from the other end. Harry waits for Niall to speak again.

“Niall.” Harry says. He hears another laugh and more muffling.

“Yeah, mate I’m here.”

Harry nods his head even though he knows Niall can’t see him. “Are you gonna come get me, mate?" A few seconds pass and Harry hears a sharp groan from the other end.

“Niall, mate.” He says impatiently.

“You called me, remember.” Niall snaps into the phone.

“I need a ride home.” Harry repeats as he balances on the balls of his feet and bounces lightly up and down.

“Can you give me 10 minutes?” Niall asks breathlessly.

“You only need 10 minutes?” Harry smiles to himself and repositions his beanie with his other hand.

“Haha.” Niall says back sarcastically. “Just for that we’re doing it in your bed.”

Harrys groans and hangs up his phone. He stands there on the street freezing, wondering if he should just go back inside. When he turns around he sees Helen locking up.

“Did you leave something inside, Harry?” She asks, pulling out the keys to her car.

“No. I’m just waiting for my ride.” Harry replies with a sweet smile.

“Oh, I can give you a ride if you need one.” She says.

“No that’s alright, you live the complete other way, Niall is going to be here in 10 minutes.” He answers.

Helen rolls her eyes. “If it’s Niall, it will be more like 20.” She laughs.

“Nah, Niall only needs 10.” Harrys says laughing at his own inside joke. Helen crinkles her eyes at him and nods.

“Okay, if you’re sure, I don’t want you standing out here all alone.”

Harry smiles. “I’m sure, tell Lacey I say hi.”

Helen smiles softly at Harry. “Of course.” Harry watches as she disappears into the back lot of the shop. After a minute he hears a car start and she pulls away giving him a wave. Lacey was Helen’s girlfriend and they had been together for 3 years. Harry didn’t really know Lacey that well but he saw her drop off lunch for Helen once and she had dark short hair and a sleeve of tattoos so she was cool in Harry’s book.

“Come on Niall.” Harry breathes into the air. He was about to call again when a car pulled to a stop in front of him. Thinking it was Niall, He walked a little closer to the car. When he realized it wasn’t Niall he immediately backed up. The window rolled down and two men’s heads showed. The driver was completely gorgeous. He had black hair and an exotic look to him. He had dark eyes and looked about in his 20’s. The other man in the passenger seat was even prettier, but in a less obvious way. Harry couldn’t get a good look at him because he had his head in his hands. Confusion took hold of him as he continued to stare at the men in front of him.

“Hey you.” The dark headed boy says. Harry looks behind him to see that no one is there.

“Yes you.” The boy says laughing, his sparkling white teeth showing.

“Uh, yeah?” Harrys says gingerly, not moving from where his feet where planted. He really didn't want to deal with this now. A cold sweat was now forming on Harry’s lip. These men are going to rob me, he thinks. Oh god. Harry grasps his phone tighter in his hand, ready to call the cops if he needed to. 

“How much?” The guy asks. Harry looks at him confused. It only took a second until Harry understood. Irritation and disgust took over him. How dare these twats think he was a streetwalker. A sneer developed on his rosy cheeks.

“Umm, I’m not.. I-“ He stuttered.

“Come on, a pretty boy like you? I’d say $1000 for the night, or is that too much?” He laughs, almost not being able to finish what he was saying.

Harry felt his face flush and immediately cursed himself for looking weak. “I’m just waiting for my ride.” Harry says, twisting his phone even tighter. 

“You can ride me.” The man said, this time no smile on his face. Harry’s face twisted in disgust. Why was this happening to him. Why was he being forced to deal with ignorant cunts, and why the hell did he ever say yes to this damn job?! Oh, was he having a long talk about this with Niall. If Niall even shows up. 

“That’s disgusting.” Harry’s stomach ties into a knot deep inside him. 

“What, are you a homophobe or something.” The man says suddenly, as if he’s offended.

“What, of course not, no.. I just. I don’t know you, and your accusing me of being a prostitute, when I’m just waiting for my roommate.” Harry says quickly. He turns to look at the man sitting in the passenger seat, but he was still sitting with his head in his hands.

“I’m just playing mate. It’s all cool.”

Harry feels his muscles relax a bit, the nervous feeling in his stomach doesn’t leave. “Uhh, okay.” He nods. “Okay.” He repeats again. Harry waits for the car to pull away but it doesn’t.

“Come on Zayn, enough, let’s go. You’re letting all the cold air in.” A light, feathery voice came from the side of the car. Harry looks up and finally gets a good look at the passenger. He was gorgeous. High cheek bones, and blue eyes. The man, er, Zayn, looks over at his friend, then back to Harry.

“See you around, lovely.” Zayn says. He starts to pull away and Harry’s eyes lock to the boy in the passenger seat. They hold the stare only a second until their car disappears into the distance. Not long after, Niall pulls up to the curb. Harry gets in and immediately places the heat directly in his face.

“You’re five minutes late.” Harry complains. Niall looks over and smiles.

“Yeah, took me longer than ten minutes.” He says proudly.

Harry cringes and looks away. “I don’t want to hear about your night, thanks Niall.” He reaches up and draws a smiley face on the fogged up window, sighing. That should have been him back at the dorm messing around with random person, not Niall. It should have been Niall standing holding a stupid fucking sign, and getting called a prostitute, but he doesn’t say any of that, just continues looking out into the cold night air. Niall cackles beside him.

“Make sure you change your sheets when we get home.” Niall giggles to himself, reaching to turn on the radio.

Harry looks over to him.

“You’re joking right.” Niall shakes his head shyly. Harry leans his head against the window. Little bastard better be joking. 

“You’re not mad right, mate?” Niall asks a moment later. Harry sighs and looks over at him. Harry really wishes he could be mad at Niall, he really, really does. But it was Niall who helped him get over his home sickness by taking him out to some bar to get drunk. It was Niall who supported Harry when he came out to him their first year of uni. Now in their third year it’s still Niall who nurses Harry through breakups. When Harry’s bum is too sore to walk, it’s Niall who brings him tea, and watches movies with him and cuddles with him when his feet are cold. It’s Niall who hugs him and treats him like a brother. Yet get’s on his nerves so much Harry is sure sometimes he could kill him and hide his body, but he figures that would be way too messy so no, even though Harry really wants to be mad at Niall, he isn’t, and he doesn’t think he ever could be. 

“As long as you had a better night than me.” Harry responds with a small grin on his face. 

Niall looks over at Harry and flashes him a dazzling smile, “Oh, I can guarantee you, I did.”

Harry closes his eyes and enjoys the warmth surrounding him. All he wants to do is crawl into his bed. (Once he changes the sheets.) and go to sleep.

Luckily Niall was kidding about screwing in his bed. As soon as Niall unlocks their dorm Harry rushes inside to see that his bed was made and everything seemed just like it did before he left, on his side at least. He is not going to go into Niall’s side. 

When Harry first met Niall he kind of despised him. Niall was loud, and obnoxious and listened to way too much rap music. Not to mention he was Irish which meant he walked around in his “lucky” boxers doing Irish jigs. Not Harry’s cup of tea. Harry was quiet and shy, he liked music and poetry. He wanted one simple thing, to be a writer. He wanted to write novels and get published, maybe make it so big that he can go to the states and get on the New York Times best seller list, or maybe even win a Nobel Prize. Niall’s goal at uni was to get super drunk and have sex with lots of different girls. It was quite distracting for Harry when he was trying to write and had to constantly be interrupted by Niall. He remembers back their first year around November when Harry was just getting used to things. 

“Hey man, do these smell alright?” Niall had asked throwing a crumpled pair of jeans in Harry’s face. He had been preoccupied trying to finish his novel, the one he had been working on for 7 months. A beautiful, rich widow was struggling to come to terms with the death of her astonishingly beautiful husband who killed himself, because he had cheated on her. She couldn’t let go of the memories or the pain. At the time Harry had been trying to figure out how to end the novel. Should she die, live? Remarry? Harry was stressed. He caught the pair of jeans and looked over at Niall. Since Harry was not much of a yeller, never had been, he took a deep breath sniffed Niall’s disgusting jeans. A gag released unexpectedly from His throat and he threw the jeans away from his space.

“Mate, ever heard of a fucking washing machine?” Harry had snarled at him. 

“A fucking no, would have been fine, ya cunt.”

That’s when Harry made Niall into a character and named him Nelson. Nelson fell in love with the widow, she went crazy and killed Nelson by stabbing him repeatedly with a knife, because she knew that she could never have the perfect life again. After killing Nelson she took her own life to be with her dead cheating husband. Harry had stayed up all night finishing that novel, and he was actually pretty proud of it. So that’s how Harry deals with Niall when he goes into one of his crazy Irish moods. Harry just makes him into a character and kills him off. Its like his own form of therapy really, so it works. 

Harry plops down onto his bed and throws an arm over his eyes. Niall sits down on his bed across from him and takes off his shoes throwing them over with his other junk. Candy wrappers, soda cans, clothes, towels, CD’s, DVD’s, video games, anything you can think of it was all on Niall’s side of the room, pushed into one corner. Harry’s on the other hand had novels, and scented candles. Him and Niall were polar opposites, but they balanced each other out. 

“Something upsetting you, mate?” Niall asks, his face growing with concern. “I told ya we didn’t fuck on ya bed.” 

Harry can’t help but let out a dry laugh. “No, it’s not that.” He sits up his curls falling around his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe what happened to me while I was waiting for you to come pick me up.” 

An intrigued look flashes through Niall’s eyes, as he leans forward, propping his hands up on his knees, and giving Harry his full attention. 

“These two blocks saw me waiting for you and they thought it would be funny to ask me how “much” I was.” Harry scoffs. “Bloody pulled up and asked me if I was a streetwalker.” Niall stares at him for a moment before a little laugh escapes his lips. It wasn’t long until Niall was gripping his stomach and wiping away his tears. 

A pout forms on Harry’s plump lips. “Niall, that’s not funny.” He whines. 

Niall gives him a stern look. “No, of course it isn’t.” A second passes and Niall is laughing again. 

“Niall!” 

“Okay.. Okay wait did he-“ And again. 

“Niall..” 

Niall puts up a finger. “What did he say exactly?” 

Harry frowns. “He bloody said..” Harry tries his best deep voice. “How much, oh a pretty boy like you, I’m guessing a thousand?” Harry narrows his eyes. “And I was like no, I’m not a fucking prostitute.” 

“Then what?”

“Ugh, Niall you won’t believe this part. I said I was waiting for my ride and he’s all like- You can ride me.” Hen shakes his head. "Sick Bastard.” He mumbles to himself. 

Harry can tell Niall is trying to hide a grin. “Man, that is perfect, imagine if you would have said yes.” 

Harry frowns at him. “Why would I do that Niall? I could have gotten robbed.” He thinks for a minute. “Or raped, would it be funny then?” 

“But you didn’t, so let it go, its funny have a laugh.” 

Harry pouts. “No, I’m mad at you.” He says crossing his hands over his chest. Niall gets up and sits with Harry on his bed. 

“No, you’re not.” He punches him on the shoulder. 

“Yes I am Niall and I am already planning your next death.” Harry says grabbing his lap top to turn it on. He’s thinking sharks. 

Niall laughs and ruffles his hair. He gets up and throws himself back onto his own bed. He adjusts his crotch and grabs a game controller. He turns on the TV, and the game system hums to life.

“As long as I die drunk, and happy.” Niall cackles from his side of the room. Harry barely hears him as he’s already writing the setting. The worst setting there ever could be for Niall. A bar that has run out of alcohol. He sits for half an hour debating if he should add the shark tank or not. In the end he throws in there anyway, he might also add a certain passenger with blue eyes and brown hair from a certain low point of his night, he really doesn’t want to, but he just can’t seem to get feathery voiced lad out of his head. 

The next morning Harry wakes up to a passed out Niall snoring and drooling on his side of the room. Harry lets out a groan and turns over, burying his face in his pillow. He really didnt want to get up. He had work in an hour and he needed to shower and grab some food. It was a Saturday for christ’s sake. The only thing that Harry wanted to do today was make some tea and write. He already had a 7 page paper due in English on Monday and he hadn’t even started. Not to mention he would have liked to go out tonight. 

With another groan he stands up and stretches out his long limbs, his back giving him a satisfying crack. Niall stirs beside him as he turns to lay on his side, his bare back facing Harry, a small sigh escapes his lips. 

Frowning, Harry makes his way to the showers, after a quick yogurt, and a bagel he stuffs in his bag for Helen, he was flagging down a cab to take him to the salon. He was greeted by a bored looking Helen and an empty salon. 

“Good morning, love.” Harry greets her with a cheeky smile. He reaches into his bag and grabs the bagel. He hands it over to her and she accepts it with a smile.

“Good morning, Harry.” She breaks the bagel in half. “Did you make it home alright?” 

Memories of the night before cloud Harry’s vision. “Um, yeah Niall came and you know.” He flushes. Mr. Blue Eyes (as Harry know calls him) has been taking up Harry’s mind for the past 13 hours. 

Hellen squints her eyes at him, but continues eating her bagel. She chews slowly, swallows, then looks to Harry. “New sign, Chip says it’s even better than the old one.” She smirks. “Good luck holding it.” 

Oh great. Without a response Harry makes his way to the back room. There propped against the wall is a sign twice as big as the last one, pained in multiple different colors, with hideous pic art of hair designs and hair dressing tools. What the hell is Chip doing. Harry gingerly picks up the new sign and it is at least twice as heavy as the old one as well. 

“Oh bollocks.” Harry mumbles to himself. He puts the sign back down and throws his bag in his personal locker. He curses himself for forgetting his beanie. 

Today is worse than yesterday. It’s only been 20 minutes and Harry is freezing his arse off. Only 2 old ladies came into the shop and scheduled appointment. Two. No cute boys are even honking at him today, and Harry is paranoid that the car from yesterday will come back again today. He knows that is very unlikely, but hey, you never know!

The rest of the day just gets worse. Harry walks over the sandwich shop across the street and grabs two sandwiches for him and Helen. They eat and Harry goes back out into the freezing cold, with this irrelevant sign, and irrelevant job. He continues to half heartedly wave the sign at passing cars. When the day is over he breathes out a sigh of relief. He sets the sign back into the room and grabs his belongings. 

“Bye Helen. See you next Wednesday.” Harry calls maneuvering passed the hair washing sinks and hair cutting stations. 

“Goodbye Harry.” She says as she types away on her computer, not even bothering to look up. Harry didn’t mind. 

When he makes his way to the street he digs around in his pocket for a couple bucks for a cab, luckily he finds money and flags down the nearest car. 

When Harry opens the door to his dorm room that evening Niall is on the phone. It is not a very happy phone call. 

“Look, I just don’t want to be tied down.” Niall rolls his eyes as he paces around the room. “Look, your a great girl okay, and I love spending time with you, but I’m just not ready to make that kind of commitment.” Niall opens his mouth to speak once more but is cut off. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I just don’t understand why you-“ He gets cut off again. “For Christ's sake.” He shakes his head. “Fine.” He scoffs into the phone. 

Harry, not wanting to get involved, slinks away to his corner throwing his bag on the ground and kicking off his shoes. He pulls out his computer, deciding to give Niall some space. He pulls out his computer and fully plans to work on his essay and ignore Niall and his phone call, but he can’t help his curious eyes as they wander up to meet Niall’s.

He is standing with his hand on his hip and his eyes closed. “Look. Last night was just a one time thing, besides we just met. You need to find some one who will treat you better than me.” He pauses and listens. “I know, I’m sorry.” He hangs up, and throws his phone down on his bed. 

“Crazy bitch, that one.” He laughs as he throws himself down, his mattress groaning against his weight. He puts a hand on his stomach and looks up to the ceiling. 

“What was that all about?” Harry asks, putting a title on his Essay. Niall lets out a sarcastic laugh. 

“What wasn’t that about.” He turns to lean on his side, facing Harry. “She wanted me to be her boyfriend, I only met the girl yesterday, we fuck once, and now she wants a fucking commitment ring.” He laughs dryly and lays to face the ceiling again. 

“That’s not so bad.” Harry mumbled. Sure meeting someone in a day, and having sex with them isn’t very ideal, but it's sorta romantic, in a love at first sight kind of way. 

Niall gives him a look that says are you fucking kidding me, but says nothing. Instead he grabs his jacket and pats his pockets. A moment later one of his hands slides in and grabs his keys. He turns to Harry.

“Let’s go, mate.” He says, bending down to grab his white high tops. Harry gives him a desperate look.

“Niall..” He groans. “I can’t go out tonight. I have to start my essay, and I have a ton of other homework, I need to eat, and I want to write.” 

Niall roles his eyes dramatically. “You can do all that shit tomorrow.” He reaches over to grab Harry’s limp arm and hoists him up. “Let’s go get drunk.” 

Harry looks Niall directly in the eyes. “I can’t Niall, not tonight.” 

++

“This club is packed.” Niall mumbles as him and Harry try to maneuver through the piles of sweaty bodies pressed against each other. Lights flashes though the dimly lit bar. Drinks slosh as drunk girls giggle as they bat their eyelashes. Boys grind on boys, girls grind on girls. A migraine was already forming in the back of Harry’s eyes. He really shouldn’t have given into Niall. He should be home, writing his essay, listening to slow music, and drinking a hot cup of tea. Oh god, tea sounded like heaven right now. 

“Let’s get some drinks.” Niall whispers to Harry. Even though Niall was extremely close, Harry had a hard time hearing him over the loud thump of music. Harry nods and his throat feels extremely dry. Niall orders a round of shots and downs them smoothly. He makes his way to the dance floor, leaving Harry alone at the bar. With a sigh Harry sits down and orders another round. If he’s going to accomplish anything, it’s going to be getting drunk off his arse. With a quick count to three Harry downs the shots and tries not to gag. He takes a quick scope around the room and notices Niall with already three girls fighting for his attention. That’s Niall all right. Harry really hopes Niall doesn’t decide to bring a girl home with him. After ten minutes of sitting, and feeling guilt for leaving his laptop alone, probably cold and in need of a quick warm up, Harry spots a young boy, around his own age staring intently at him. Harry smiles shyly as the kid makes his way over. 

“Hi.” The boy whispered gingerly as he appears. He has cole black hair and blue eyes. Not bad. 

“Hi.” Harry responds with a small smile, and looks down at the glitter and dirt covered floor. 

“I’m Nathan.” 

“Harry.” 

“Can I buy you a drink, Harry?” Nathan asks leaning against the bar next to him. His hungry eyes looking Harry up and down.

“Sure.” Harry responds. The boy nods to the bar tender who walks over and takes his order. Okay, so maybe this night wasn’t so bad, Harry would drink some more, dance a little, maybe get a little frisky, go home and spend all day tomorrow writing his paper. As he took another shot he started to feel his shoulders loosen. 

“Wanna dance?” Nathan asks reading Harry’s mind. 

“Of course.” Nathan takes Harry's hand and leads him to the crowded area of sweating bodies and flying limbs. Harry lets the music take him and allows Nathan to put his hand around his waist. Harry laughs and leans into the touch, allowing the boy’s other hand to graze his lower back right above his bum. They continue like that for a while before Nathan turns Harry around and lets him grind into him. It felt so good. Harry let out a sloppy grin and ground his body back. He closes his eyes and sways with the music, allowing the boy to grasp his hips and push into him. When Harry opens his eyes he comes in direct eye contact with an extremely familiar face. Harry squints trying to get a better look. The man was paying no attention to Harry, just continued sipping his drink casually. Where had Harry seen him before? His head was fuzzy as he wracked his brain. Come on, Harry, think. Another man walks up beside him wearing dark skinny jeans and a navy button up shirt with a collar, it hit Harry like a ton of bricks. The car, that night, the men. The men who thought Harry was a prostitute, or at least were trying to be funny by trying saying he was. They chat and laugh happily for a couple seconds before Mr. Blue Eyes (the one Harry couldn’t get out of his head) let his eyes wonder in Harry’s direction. They stopped cold when he met Harry’s. He knows, Harry thinks. Collard shirt knows who Harry is. Nathan must have noticed Harry stop grinding into him because he slipped a wet kiss to his neck. Harry didn't even notice for his eyes were still strained on the man by the bar. Nathan let out a whine in his ear.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He mumbled into him, hot breath causing Harry to suddenly feel extremely claustrophobic. Harry turned to face him, his eyes wide.

“I.. I need to go.” Harry says to him. Nathan pouts and frowns. 

“Not having fun?” He asks in a breathy voice. “We can take this somewhere more private if you’d like.” He runs his hands up Harry’s chest, but Harry leans away.

“No.. I’m sorry, your lovely, but I have a boyfriend.” He blurts out of nowhere. 

“And that is supposed to mean something to me?” 

Harry looks at him with disgust “Yeah, it is, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find him.” Harry maneuvers past the obnoxious half dressed thirsty girls, and steps over a passed out body on the dance floor. His head is spinning and he needs a glass of water. He finds Niall dancing and laughing, with a new group of girls. Harry trudges up to him and grabs his shoulder. Niall spins around, his grin widening when he sees Harry.

“Mate, you having fun?” He leans in to ask. Harry shakes his head.

“They’re here Niall.” 

“Wha-?” Niall asks, not being able to finish the question as a blond yanks his shirt. Harry rolls his eyes, and Niall spins back around to him ignoring the girl’s dirty look.

“Who’s here?” 

“The guys, from last night.” Harry says looking around the bar area for them, but they’re no where to be seen. 

“So what?” Niall scoffs at him, but continues to stay put.

“Niall, did you not hear me?” Harry says, his voice tight. “ They. Are. Here.” He repeats.

Niall rolls his eyes. “Yes. Harry. I. Heard. You.” Niall turns back to the girls, but Harry grabs him again.

“Niall, mate, can we please just go.. I’m exhausted and I’m over this.” 

Niall looks at him and sighs. “You really want to go?” He asks. Harry nods. He is almost 100% Niall is just going to give him money for a cab and tell him to beat it, but instead Niall walks away from the girls and towards the door, slinging an arm around Harry as they walk. 

“Fine, we can leave, but only because those girls were fucking annoying.” 

Harry grins to himself, and pokes Niall in the side. “And because you love me.” 

Niall lets out one of his heart laughs. “What ever helps you sleep at night.” 

++

Harry is panicking. It is currently 4:30 in the afternoon and Harry has not started his essay. The essay that was due in less than 24 hours. It all started like this. Niall and Harry did not get home until 1:30 a.m, and Harry did not wake up until noon. Niall stated that he was hungry and that he wanted to go get a late breakfast. That’s not that bad right? Well then he wanted to go to the mall for a new shirt. 15 minutes turned into 2 hours, and Niall was now with 3 new pairs of shoes, 4 shirts, and 2 pairs of pants. The only thing Harry was left with was an aching for his laptop and a Xanax for his nerves. So here he sits a blank document sitting in front of him waiting for words to be created, for words to come to life. He has a killer hangover and he has honestly debated jumping out of his dorm window approximately 32 times. Niall lay passed out with a blanket pulled over his head snoring loudly. Niall was lucking his family had money and that his dad already had a job lined up for him. His family was very into business, but instead of owning a small hair salon, Niall’s dad owned three car dealerships, and Niall was supposed to take over, when his father retired. Why did Niall come to university? To have the full “College.” experience. Getting drunk and having lots of sex, which if that was a course he would be passing with flying colors. Sadly for Harry he did not come from money. His mom worked in a bakery back in Cheshire, and his sister was a nurse tech at the local hospital.

Harry continued staring at his blank page hoping for words to magically appear on his paper. He was forced to write 7 pages on the famous novel Sons and Lovers, and if Harry does say so himself, he’s almost certain he could have written it better. With a sigh Harry did the first thing he knew to do. He wrote his name. 

++ 

“Harry, turn off your fucking alarm, you twat.” 

Those were the first words Harry was woken up to the next morning. With a groan Harry stretches out his long limbs and rubs his eyes. A loud ring went off every second. Once Harry regained himself he leaned off to turn his alarm off. 

“You know thats the fifth time that thing has gone off.” Niall mumbles into his pillow, laying on his stomach, his blond hair tousled in waves. 

Panic slips through Harry’s veins as he looks at his clock. He was 20 minutes late to class. 

“Niall, why didn’t you tell me I slept through my alarm?” Harry whines, throwing his lean legs over the side of his bed and sat up. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and shakes the loose curls from his face. 

“I bloody did, three times, even threw a pillow at you. Fucking slept through every word I said, so I just went back to sleep. Finally couldn’t take it anymore.” 

Harry looks over and spots the lone pillow sitting in the middle of his bed. “I’m late.” He grumbles as he stands up, shooting Niall a dirty look he couldn’t even see. 

“Fuck I’m so late.” Harry grumbles once more, rushing to collect all of his papers and shove them in his bag. He doesn’t have time to shower so he throws on a new t- shirt and a pair of jeans. He gives his hair a quick glance and rushes out the door. His English professor is going to kill him. At least he got his paper finished. He was up until 3:00 a.m. getting it done. 

Harry runs across campus to his correct building. Kids scattered the campus, chatting happily as they sipped their coffee. It was an extremely cold day and Harry could see his breath with every one he took. Everyone was huddled with scarves around their necks and red cheeks and noses. Harry was sure he looked a proper mess. 

When he reaches the room, he pushes open the door slowly and all eyes in the room turn to him. Harry stops dead in his tracks because no longer in the front of the room was the 80 year old man who smelt like stale coffee and raisins. Instead an achingly beautiful creature who haunted Harry’s thoughts in dreams stood in his place. It was him. Again. For the second time in the span of two days. Mr. Blue Eyes was back, and he was Harry’s new professor. Harry feels his jaw drop as he stares at the lad in front of him. His feathery hair was perfectly made up and he looked extremely sleek in his proper suit, so much more mature looking he had at the bar on saturday, sexier Harry thinks, if that’s even possible. Harry swears he sees something cross his eyes, but it disappeared before it was even there. 

Mr. Blue Eyes clears his throat as the room falls silent. 

“Well, are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to give me a reason for your tardiness.” He places a thin hand on his waist. 

Harry tries to find words but his mouth has completely dried. He curses himself for not showering, or even putting on deodorant. Oh shit, he forgot deodorant. Harry mentally smacks himself, get it together Styles. 

“Um.” Really? Um that was the only thing he could think of. 

“I.. was up late, finishing my paper.” Harry tries again, hoping his excuse was enough and Mr. Blue Eyes would just let him take a seat and internally cry for the rest of the hour. 

“Oh, yes what was that on again? Sons and Lovers? Excellent novel, of course I could have written it better myself.” Mr. Blue Eyes says jokingly, and the class chuckles lightly. Funny, Harry had thought the same thing for himself. Harry stands there silently. 

“Well hand it in then, come on.” He extends his hand and Harry notices just how small his wrists were, so delicate. Harry reaches a shaky hand into his bag and pulls out the thick packet of words. He extends his hand and the professor grabs it. Harry is falling apart right now. How did he not remember him? Surely he did. He had to of. He sure as hell looked like he remembered him at the bar Saturday night. Harry wonders what the dean would think about a professor accusing a student of prostitution, not that Harry would ever say anything. 

“Take a seat then, go on.” 

Harry shuffles awkwardly to the available seat by the wall. As soon as he sat he allowed his head to fall into one of his hands, his curls slipping through his fingers. 

“Alright, as I was saying before I was interrupted.” A small smirk descending upon his lips. “I am going to be your new professor, my name is Mr. Tomlinson.” 

Posh, Harry thinks. Mr. Tomlinson sounded like a billionaire name. He preferred Mr. Blue Eyes. 

“Since, Mr. Knightly, is out because of heart surgery..” Mr. Tomlinson pauses. “Bless his heart.” He says after a second. Harry can’t help but let a grin escape his lips. That was awful, he wants to say, but no one else in the class even caught on. Harry caught Mr. Tomlinson’s eyes but the professor quickly looked away but not before his grin widened slightly. 

Mr. Tomlinson clasps his hands behind his back. “I will be taking over, and I hope to inspire you young people, and hope to help you on your journey towards self discovery.” 

Harry struggles to pay attention, instead he pulls out his notebook and starts writing a new story. Mr. Tomlinson goes into their learning objectives but Harry pays no mind to the words he is saying, instead he is getting caught up in a new more exciting life, a life where Mr. Tomlinson remembers who he was. 

++

“You’re not going to bloody believe who my new English Professor is!” Harry shouts as he slams the door to his dorm shut. Niall is munching on a bag of chips and typing away on his cell phone. He doesn’t even look up when Harry enters the room, just mumbles a hm and continues on. Harry walks over and plops on Niall’s bed, causing his chip bag to fall slightly, sending some crumbs falling to the floor. 

“Mr. Tomlinson!” Harry exclaims. Niall sighs and looks up at Harry with dead eyes.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” He asks. Harry pouts. 

“Niall, he is everywhere, you don’t understand.” Harry pauses and waits for Niall to catch on to his words, instead Niall just looks bored, and hungry. 

“The same guy from the bar, and from the car, the one who said I was a-“

“A streetwalker, I know mate, you bloody talk about it 12 times a day.” 

“Yeah, Niall, but he is my new english professor! How the hell does that even work? He doesn’t even look over 21.” Harry says with confusion. 

“He does look young, doesn’t he.” Niall agrees. They sit quietly for a minute. “So you gonna hop on that?” Niall asks a moment later. 

“Wha-? Niall!” Harry exclaims in a high-pitched voice. “No! I couldn’t!” 

Niall says nothing, just gives him of his “sure” looks. 

“Whatever Niall.” Harry lay flat and looks up to the ceiling. “He is so funny, and creative.” He adds a moment later. “But he is also so sarcastic and sassy.” 

Niall throws a hand over Harry’s mouth and Harry pushes it off with a laugh. 

“Enough, Juliet.” Niall mumbles as he hands Harry some chips. Harry accepts happily and plops them in his mouth. 

++ 

The next couple of days go by uneventful. He goes to English and spends half of his time writing, and the other half staring at Mr. Tomlinson’s beautiful mouth. Harry can’t even catch his eyes. It’s like he is completely invisible. His days go on painfully slow, and it isn’t until Friday that Mr. Tomlinson hands back their papers. Anxiety shoots through Harry’s veins. 

“Some of you did very well, some of you.. did not.” He pauses slightly as he sits his bum on the edge of his desk. “Some of you completely understood the concept of the novel, some of you… did not.” He starts handing out papers one by one. “Sons and Lovers is about more than a sick twisted love, it’s about a complicated, confusing, sick twisted love, and some of you cannot see the beauty in sadness, but without sadness how would we know the feeling of happiness?” 

His words stick to Harry is a poetic sense. When his paper is given back Mr. Tomlinson completely avoids his eyes. Harry looks down at his grade F. 

Are you fucking kidding? How the hell did he get an F when he worked his arse off on this paper. Harry feels anger shoot up from his body. All he felt towards his professor at that moment was hate. He spent the rest of the class, figuring out a way to approach this atrocity. When the class ends and kids are exiting Harry lingers behind. Mr. Tomlinson is sitting at his desk going through papers when his eyes land on Harry.

“Can I help you with something? Er..” He looks at him confused. 

“Harry.” 

“Ah yes, Harold, what can I do for you?” Mr. Tomlinson folds his fingers, and rests them on the desk. 

“I got an F.” Harry blurts out and surprises himself. Okay calm down, play it cool. 

“Yes, I’m aware, i’m the one who gave you that grade.” He smirks. 

“Why?” Harry asks a little weaker then he intended, he thought he saw a flash of something in Mr. Tomlinson’s eyes, but it vanished, just like it had the first day. 

“Why? Because you completely misconceived the concept of the novel.” He scoffed.

“No, I didn't.” Harry says back childishly. 

“Are you really planning on arguing with me, Harold?” He asked him in a disbelieving tone. He had a scowl on his face, and a loose hair fell on his eyes. Even in Harry’s moment of rage, he still couldn’t stop thinking of how beautiful he was. 

“Yes, I am actually, because you are wrong.” 

That set something off inside of him. He clicked his tongue and stood up. “Listen, there are two things you should know about me Mr. Styles.” He looked directly into Harry’s eyes. Harry felt himself take in a gulp of air. “One.” Mr. Tomlinson holds up one finger. “I am always right.” He smirks.. “And two, even when I’m wrong, I’m still right.” He sits back down, picks up his pen and continues writing. 

“Well, I’m a writer, so.” Harry says, cocking a hip. “I’m pretty sure I know what I’m talking about.” 

Mr. Tomlinson looks up at him. “Oh are you? Well from what I can tell.” He nods to the paper grasped tightly in Harry’s hands. “You need a little more work, but don’t worry I’m sure you’ll get there.” 

Harry felt the room turn red. How dare he mock his writing. “Well from what I can tell, I think your idea of a joke needs a little more work, but don’t worry I’m sure one day you’ll find a kid who will actually accept your offer.” 

Mr. Tomlinson’s eyes turn cold, and his hand stops writing and he freezes. Finally. He does remember and he has known this whole time. Harry leans in to his desk. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Tomlinson your secret is safe with me.” Harry says slyly. 

He stops cold. His knuckles turning white as he grips his pen. Finally, Harry has gotten his attention, but instead of adding on to the conversation his eyes locked to Harry’s. “We’re done here, you can leave or I can get the dean to make you.” 

Something went off inside of Harry, and he knew that he needed to go, the conversation was done, and they were not going to get any farther. Accepting his F Harry heads toward the door, feeling angry, and exhausted, but one thing was for sure, he was already plotting Mr. Tomlinson’s death, fictionally of course. 

++ 

“I hate him.” Harry mumbles into his pillow as he entered his dorm that Friday. 

“Who?” Niall asks, fixing his hair in the mirror. He looks at his reflection and fixes his shirt. 

“Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry mumbles. 

“Louis.” Niall says flatly. Harry looks up to him with confusion. 

“Who?” Harry asks. 

“His name is Louis Tomlinson, new english professor, lived in Doncaster, moved to London. some girls where talking about how hot he was while I was walking to class today. Let me tell you, he is getting pretty well known around campus.” Niall spritzes some cologne on his wrists. 

That name stuck to Harry like glue. Louis, Louis Louis Louis Louis. He let out a sigh. “Well I hate Louis.” Harry loathed the way that came out of his mouth, how effortlessly the name stuck in the air. 

“Why? I thought he was the love of your life.” Niall rolls his eyes to himself in the mirror. 

“Well, Louis..” Harry says unnecessarily. “Gave me an F on my essay.” 

Niall chuckles. “Now why would Louis do that?”

“Because Louis is evil!” Harry spats.

“Okay say Louis one more time and shaving your head in your sleep.” Niall warns, making his way around the small room to grab a jacket.

Harry ignores him. “Not only did he criticize my writing, he totally admitted me remembered me, and that he knew who I was. Oh! and he calls me Harold, like who the hell does he think he is, the bloody king of England?” 

Niall laughs. “Harold? Seriously.” 

“Right! Ugh.” Harry pulls the pillow over his face and lets out a groan. 

Niall pats him on the tummy. “Wanna go out, mate?” He asks. Harry slowly lets the pillow fall away from his face and turns to look at Niall. 

“No, I just want me laptop and some tea.” He pouts. A moment later Niall was tucking him in and handing him a hot cup of Earl Grey. 

“I love you.” Harry mumbles as Niall slides on a scarf. 

“Yeah, you too Harold.” Niall snorts. 

“Aw bloddy hell.” Harry giggles as Niall closes the door. Harry pulls out his laptop and starts writing, he was going to show Louis he was a great writer, he was going to make him eat his words. All he needed now was a title. 

++ 

It’s been almost three weeks, and all Harry has done is written and thought of Louis. His arrogance drove Harry crazy. All through classes Louis stood with a smirk as he taught. He thought he knew everything and that really pissed Harry off. 

Frustration was all Harry could feel as he stood again holding the same stupid sign, looking at the same stupid street lights, and watching the same stupid cars fly up and down the road. This job was going to be the death of him, wait, scratch that, Louis Tomlinson was going to be the death of him. Harry had turned in two more papers since that day and he passed both of them only slightly, and to make things worse Louis completely ignores his existence. Doesn’t pay him any mind, just slides his average essay over to him, avoiding his eyes. Harry is unbelievably done with the way things have been going. At least Louis could have apologized to him about that day! Harry hated that the first time he spoke to Louis it was only to ask him why he thought his essay was a failure. How many times Harry imagined Louis talking to him, in that light feathery voice. He had imaged him whispering how sorry he was. How great of a writer he was. Maybe even a subtle smile, or a wink for gods sake. But no. Nothing. For two weeks Harry has been cursed with hating Louis and writing Louis.

Ah writing, that brings him to another point. Harry cannot seem to continue his story. A day ago after Niall had made him tea and left, Harry had started the book of him and Louis. Starting with the very first day Harry saw him, leading up to at this very moment. Even though they didn't know each other long his book already had 15 pages. Thats probably because Harry used 2 of those 15 just to describe Louis’ bum. Another page for his hair, one more for his eyes. Harry was in deep. 

Harry was still caught up in his Louis daze that he doesn’t even notice the man himself across the street, walking into one of the small cafes that sat in the corner of the plaza. He freezes as he watches Louis take a seat by the window directly in front of his view. Car’s pass and block Louis' face, but when the light turns red Harry gets a perfect view of his high cheek bones, and beautiful hands. He watches as Louis sets his bag on the table and pulls out a laptop, he presses a button and the screen lights up. A young, attractive waiter comes over and Harry sees Louis give him a sly smile. They start speaking and it is clear from Louis’ body language that he is flirting with the waiter. 

Jealously shoots through Harry. What were they talking about. Did Louis want to go out with that man? Were they talking about doing just that? Harry’s anger shoots higher when he sees Louis hand the man a slip of paper. The waiter winks and takes off towards the kitchen. Louis sits perkily with a smile on his lips like he had just won the world. He looked so cozy nestled into an oversized sweater, his ankles showing as he wears a pair of worn out vans. 

Harry didn't know how it was possible to be freezing, and boiling at the same time. He sent out a text to Niall.

'Louis is at the cafe across the street. What do I do?'

Niall responds a second later. 

'Does he see you.' 

Harry looks up to see that Louis is typing away, paying no mind to this side of the street.

'No'

'Go join him ;)'

'Really funny Niall, but in case you’ve forgotten I have to work this job, that YOU signed me up for'

'Take off, I’ll tell Chip you were feeling sick.' 

The thought runs through Harry’s head for a moment. Could he really do that? He looks back at the shop, which was dead. Without over thinking it, Harry runs back in and shoves the sign in the back room. He turns to Helen.

“Niall said I can take off, he’s gonna tell chip.” 

Helen sends him a sly smile. “Aren’t you lucky one.. Got a hot date?” She asks.

Harry flushes throughout his whole body. “Not exactly.” He laughs easily.

“Well go, have fun.” 

“Thanks Helen.” Harry pushes open the door into the cold again and sees Louis still in the same spot, this time drinking a steaming beverage. Harry looks both ways and makes his way across the street. He gives himself a little pep talk, then pushes open the door to the cafe. The smell of tea and pastries hit his nose. He spots Louis immediately and stops dead. What was he thinking? He can’t do this, he looks like a stalker. Still standing there frozen, Louis suddenly looks up as if he had sensed Harry’s presence. Something changes in his eyes, but he gives Harry an awkward smile. Harry is still standing there staring. Move, idiot. He slowly puts on foot in front of the other and makes his way to Louis. 

“Loui- I mean, Mr. Tomlinson.” Harry caught himself. He really needs to stop using his first name when he talks about him over and over to Niall. Poor Niall.

Louis who is still looking like a scared animal, blinks at him a view times. “Harold.” He finally manages. 

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks suddenly. He mentally slaps himself. He’s here drinking tea, and writing, what else would he be doing here? 

“I was around, decided to stop in for some tea. How about yourself” He says holding up his glass to display. 

Harry nods, unsure what to say. “I just got off work, so I came in for some coffee.” 

Louis’ eyes widen as he looks across the street to the salon. “I should probably apologize.” Louis says then, and all the blood rushes to Harry’s face and his palms start to clam up.

“Sit, please.” He monitions to the chair across from him. Nervously, Harry sits. 

“You don’t have to apologize, seriously.” Harry says suddenly. He hates the look of sadness that had flashed through Louis’ face. 

“No, I do. It was very inappropriate.” He pauses and looks Harry in the eyes. “My roommate, Zayn, he was bored and thought it would be funny.” Louis blushes. 

“It’s alright, I’m not angry. I mean I was a little freaked out at the time, but I got that it was a joke.” He says quickly. 

Louis’ eyes lighten a little. “Well, I’m glad.” He turns back to his computer. Harry stays watching as Louis types. 

“What are you writing?” Harry asks suddenly. “I’m so sorry, it’s.. It’s none of my business.” He flushes immediately. 

“No, no it’s alright. I’m writing a list of questions on the next novel we will be starting.” He says easily. 

“Will we be writing an essay?” Harry asks. Okay so a little shade might have been thrown, but he just couldn’t resist. 

Louis looks at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Of course there will be an essay.” He scoffs, but grins. “Will that be a problem for you, Mr. Styles.” 

“Of course not, Mr. Tomlinson, but I feel it will be a problem for you.” Harry throws back. What? A little flirting never hurt anyone. 

Louis narrows his eyes and sits up straighter. “Now why would I have a problem, Harold.?” 

Harry felt a wave of heat fly through his body. Louis was looking at him in the most seductive manner Harry had ever seen. 

“You hate my writing.” Harry responds honestly. 

Louis frowns a little. “I never said I hated it.” He says, and Harry swears in the moment Louis looked like a heart broken puppy.

“But you never said you liked it.” Harry points out, a pout on his lips. 

“It needs work.” Louis shrugs and takes a sip of his tea. 

“Work.” Harry says flatly. 

“All great writers but be criticized, or else they will have nothing to work on.” 

“And yourself?” Harry asks, watching Louis intently.

“What about myself?” 

“Are you a writer.” 

Louis scoffs. “Play writer.” He responds. 

“You write plays.” Harry states. 

“That’s what I do, yes.” Louis nods, taking yet another sip of his tea. Harry watches as his lips curve around the white mug. Okay breathe. This is the longest conversation he had ever had with Louis. 

“Can I read one?” Harry asks, he knows its a long shot, but you can’t blame a boy for trying.

“Absolutely not!” Louis scolds, but he is smiling. Harry could look at that smile forever. 

He leans his head on his hand. “Why not?” He asks cheekily. 

“Why because, Harold, if I let you read my writing, it wouldn’t be mine anymore, now would it?”

“That makes absolutely no sense.” Harry responds. Louis looks at him with the most adorable look ever. 

“What do you mean.” He holds up his hands. “Makes no sense.” He mumbles in a deep voice, putting air quotes around his words. 

“Writing is meant to be shared.” Harry responds. 

“I dont agree, Harold.” 

“Do you ever agree with me?” He asks dreamily. 

“Let me read your writing then.” Louis says, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Fine, just name a time and a place, and I’ll bring my laptop.” Harry says with a scoff.

Louis just stares at him. “Alright, Monday after school, my classroom.” 

Harry crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll be there.” It’s in that moment that cute waiter boy comes over to ask Louis how he is doing, shooting Harry a dirty look. Harry takes that as his cue to leave. He politely says goodbye and pushes in his chair. He was in no way in the mood to watch them flirt it up. Harry swears he sees Louis’ eyes linger on him as he makes his way back across the street to grab a cab and make his way home. 

++

“Here you go.” Harry says sitting his laptop down in front of Louis the next day. He was sitting at his desk, his hair moused, wearing glasses. Fucking glasses. He slips them off to look up at Harry. 

“I didn't think you would actually show up.” Louis says with a small smile playing on his pink lips. 

I would never miss a chance to see you, Harry thinks, but doesn’t say. 

Instead he gives him a lop sided grin. “Course, I showed up.” Harry sits down at the chair that sits in the front of his desk, and watches as Louis stares evenly at him. He slowly slides his computer closer to him. Louis eyes never leave Harry’s. 

“You sure you want me to read this?” Louis asks unsure. 

“Yes. I’m sure. It’s not one of my best, It’s a story based on my sister leaving for university.” Harry shrugs. He had spent hours the night before with Niall going though hundreds of drafts trying to find the best story suited for Louis to read. Niall had suggested showing him the one Harry was currently working on. Harry had cursed him and quickly picked this one. It was an alright short story. It had strong characters, and a good setting. He figured Louis would enjoy this. 

Harry sat twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands as Louis’ eyebrows scrunched together and a small wrinkle formed between his eyes. Harry could tell he was focusing on Harry’s writing. Harry doesn’t think he could have looked sexier if he tried. Louis would bite his lip every once in a while, and Harry begged himself to look away. This wasn’t doing anything for him. His jeans felt a little tight. Get it together Styles. You can’t get a bloddy stiffy while watching your teacher read your writing. But he wasn’t just some teacher. He was Louis. And in some weird way the universe wanted them to know each other. It was twisted, but Harry was grateful. 

He sat watching for 10 maybe 20 more minutes before Louis tares his blue eyes from the screen and settle them on Harry.

“You.. wrote this.” He says slowly, pointing the screen.

Harry nods, unsure of what Louis was going to say next. 

“It’s not bad.” He says. 

Harry couldn’t help the sound of disappointment that escaped his lips. He felt like shit. All of his life he wanted this, craved this. He loved the feeling of the keys beneath his fingertips. The way the words danced as they came to life. He felt water welling in his eyes. If Louis thought his writing was shit, then it was shit. 

Harry doesn’t speak, doesn’t even meet Louis’ eyes as he grabs his laptop and rushes out of the room. He ignores Louis’ calls as he pushes himself out into the frigid London weather. A tear escapes and Harry brushes it away angrily. 

“Fuck!” He shouts into the cold. A group of girls who were huddled together to keep warm shoot him a dirty look. He doesn’t care. By the time he got to his dorm, Niall was gone. Harry plops down onto his bed and lets the tears fall. He feels utterly pathetic. Why does he let Louis have this effect on him? What did Harry expect was going to happen? Did he think Louis was going to say that his writing was beyond amazing, and that they should get married and ride off into the sunset? That was it. He was done writing. For good. He was done talking to Louis, he was done talking about Louis. Harry was just done. 

++

The next day Harry walks into class with his head down. He sits in his seat and stares at the permanent marker stain in the corner. When Louis comes in Harry makes a point to keep his head down. Louis sits down at his desk and starts shuffling papers. 

“We’re starting a new novel!” He clasps his hands together and stands up. Harry can’t help but let his eyes wonder to Louis. He sees him staring right back. Their eyes lock for another second before Harry tears his eyes away and looks down at his hands. 

It is silent for a moment before Louis speaks again. “We are going to be starting Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. A very tragic novel.” Louis continues on about the novel but Harry’s mind wanders. He has never gone more then 10 hours without writing. He constantly would scribble in a notebook or write down his thoughts, but nothing. Nothing for 20 hours. Twenty!! And it was all Louis fault. 

He begins passing out the novels to each of the students. When he gets to Harry he lingers for a moment. Harry’s eyes remain down avoiding him. He sets the book lightly and moves on to the next student, a sigh escaping him. When he was done passing out novels he walks over back by his desk and peacefully looks at the students.

“Tell me.” He says slyly. “What’s more deadly? A thought or a gun?” The class is quiet and Louis is still sitting with a small smirk. “Harold?” He then says and Harry feels the air leave the room. Harry, who hasn’t looked up all class, slowly raises his eyes to Louis’ 

“A gun.” He says flatly. Was this some sort of joke. Did Louis find it funny to hurt him? 

“Wrong, Mr. Styles.” He walks closer to him. “A gun gives you the opportunity, but a thought..” He looks him dead in the eye. “Pulls the trigger.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry snaps. Okay maybe he’s being a little harsh but he is sick of Louis’ confusing twisted sayings. 

“It means..” He pauses blue eyes shooting arrows into Harry’s chest. “That your mind is the strongest weapon that you have.” He turns his back and walks back up to the front of the classroom. “Speak to me after class.” 

Great. 

++

As the class ends, the students start pulling on jackets and chatting happily. Harry stays behind, his mind racing. When the room is empty Louis looks up the Harry. 

“Why do you want to see me?” Harry asks, pulling on his beanie. “If it was because I was being a smart ass today, I apologize.” He says trying to get through this as easily as possible. 

“Oh come on Harold, I would never keep you after class for being a “smart ass” I would just embarrass you in front of the class.” He smirks. 

“Okay? Then if you have nothing to say I’m going to leave.” Harry turns to go but Louis grabs his wrist. His hand lingers far longer than they needed to. Harry’s eyes lock with Louis. A moment later Harry pulls away. 

“I’m sorry Harry.” Louis says finally, all silliness gone. It was the first time he had ever called him Harry, so he knew Louis was being serious. 

Harry says nothing. 

“I feel like shit because of what I did yesterday.” He says a moment later. Harry can feel his heart squeeze. “I don’t think your writing is awful.. I just.” Louis looks at him and sighs. “You have so much potential. So much to offer, and your writing about silly things.” 

“My sister leaving wasn’t silly, I was very sad about it.”

Louis scoffs. “Of course, but I didn't feel that in your writing. You have such strong emotions, let them breathe.” He says. 

“I dont understand.. You’re saying that I don’t show enough emotion?” Harry was extremely confused by the words Louis was saying. Since when did he become the writing master just because he was professor.

Louis ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, that is exactly what I’m saying…” He pauses. “Now go, I’ve said all I need to.” He turns his back to the curly headed boy.

Harry was fuming. “Are you bloody joking?” He puts his hands on Louis desk. “Your saying my writing has no emotion? At least I bloody let people see my writing, but do you think that is easy? Opening up about something I find serious. You might think your so high and mighty and too cool for anyone to read what you write, but that is bullshit. You have no right to judge me or my writing, I don’t give a fuck about who you think you are. I worked my ass off to get into this college. I… I” Harry stopped. 

Louis stared at him wide eyed, then grinned. “Good.” He says. 

Harry takes a breathe. “What?”

Louis stands up and walks over to him. “Get angry, but don’t yell, take that emotion and turn it into your writing.” He hands him his laptop. “Write down everything you are feeling.” 

“I dont.. I dont understand.” Harry says breathlessly.

“Shut up Harold and do as I say.”

“My name is Harry.” He mumbles.

“Good, why don’t you tell me that.” He pushes the laptop to Harry and he stares at the blank document for a moment.

Harry looks at Louis and he is so close he can count every eyelash. The only thing separating them is the thin computer jamming Harry’s rip cage. 

“You didn't mean what you said about my emotions, right?” Harry asks, and at that moment he just wants Louis to bend him over the desk, and make him feel every emotion possible. 

“Not everything.” Louis says, his voice just above a whisper. Is he thinking what Harry’s thinking. 

“Make me feel.” Harry says suddenly, he doesn’t have time to take it back before Louis lips are against his. The computer is forgotten as Harry’s body responds to the kiss. Louis breath is warm, and his lips taste of peppermint. He pushes his hands up to Harry’s hair and yanks at the curls. The kiss is breathy and rough and not at all how Harry imagined. It was so much more. Harry licks along the bottom of Louis mouth and allows Louis to run his hand along his stomach, and grip his hips. He lets out a pretty sound as he grips harder on Harry’s waist. Harry took in the feeling and his hands searched every inch of Louis. Harry was feeling everything and nothing all at once. His judgment was clouded. 

“I could write about this.” Harry moaned into Louis mouth. Louis shushed him by biting his lower lip. Suddenly the warmth that surrounded Harry ended and his mouth was left unsatisfied. Louis was backing away and wiping his mouth. He looks up at Harry with shocked eyes. 

“That..” Louis shakes his head. “That should not have happened.” He says as he plops in the seat of his desk. 

“Louis.. I’m.” 

“Mr. Tomlinson.” Louis interrupts, avoiding Harry’s eyes. 

“Please don’t do that.” Harry says walking over to him. He kneels in front of him, their eyes level. 

“Harry, I am your professor.. I could get into so much trouble for this.” He says. 

“I won’t tell Louis.” He whispers to Louis mouth that was once again extremely close to Harry’s face. 

Louis eyes lock to Harry as he slips a hand through his hair. “I find you gorgeous.” He whispers. Harry feels himself blush as he beams at the compliment. 

“Please kiss me again.” Harry whispers. Louis slowly tilts Harry’s head and kisses his lips softly. It was so much different than a moment ago, and Harry wanted to capture it and keep it in a jar. 

When Louis pulls away again he rests his head against Harry’s. “This has to be our secret.” 

“I won’t tell a soul.” Harry says. Louis nods, and Harry starts gathering his things. He turns to leave.

“I was serious, you know.” Louis says. “That you need to turn your feelings into your writing. It will help you a ton.” He smiles softly at Harry.

“I couldn’t describe this feeling, even if I tried.” With that Harry pushes open the door to reality. When the cold hit his skin, all that Harry felt was the lips of Louis and the warmth he brings. 

++

Finally. Harry finally feels as if he can continue his story. His writing is stronger than ever and he only had Louis to thank. He skips happily into the class the following day. He arrives earlier than any other student, an hour earlier to be exact. It’s Friday so Harry has the whole weekend the finish his story. He spots Louis sipping tea, a laptop in front of him. He looks absolutely gorgeous. His eyes sparkle as his dainty fingers fly through the keys. He had scruff on his beautiful chin, and all Harry could think about was how it would feel in between his thighs. He had on an over sized white T-shirt and a blazer thrown over. Sex. Louis looked like sex.

Harry smirks as he closes the door. Louis head pops up and his scowl of being interrupted turns into a wide smile. Harry returns it and walks over to him. He sets his bag down and sits down in a chair facing him. 

“Good morning, Lou.” Harry smiles. He loves being able to say that. Without thinking too much Harry pulls out his own computer and lets it whirl to life. 

“There’s something I want you to read.” Louis’ eyes light up in fascination, but says nothing. 

Harry had been up all night trying to end his story. Niall wasn’t much help. Just told Harry to fuck him and leave it at that. He had declined. Harry wanted their ending to be magical. As Harry’s computer finally turns on, he opens up his recent documents and pulls up the story. The story of them. He sits with the words swimming in front of him. He isn’t sure if he should show Louis or not. Harry looks up to find Louis staring intently at him. 

Harry feels his face flush. “What?” He giggles. 

Louis smiles. “Your here early.” He says. 

“I know, I wanted to see you.” Harry looks down to hide his red cheeks. 

“Come see me then.” Louis opens his arms and Harry slides into them. He straddles Louis lap, his legs on either side of Louis’ hips. He felt quite childish, but smiled anyway. He leaned down so their hearts aligned. The feeling of Louis chest against his made butterflies erupt in his stomach. His scent and his warmth was enough to make Harry smile deeply. He nestles his face into Louis shoulder and takes a deep breathe. Louis runs a soft hand through Harry’s curls. 

“You smell good.” Harry smiles into him. He feels Louis chuckle softly, his chest rising slightly. Harry pulls out of his embrace and faces Louis. Blue eyes meet green. Harry brings hand up and runs his fingers softly on Louis’ cheek bones.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” Harry says quietly. Louis closes his eyes a small smile dancing on his lips. 

“Bout what?” Louis mumbles, enjoying the feeling of Harry. 

“About you.” He whispers, bringing his hand to his hair and messaging his scalp. Louis’ smile deepens as he leans his head back. 

“Ever since the first time I saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Harry leans in closer. “Been thinking about this.” 

Louis opens his eyes lazily and looks at Harry. “I’m writing about you.” Louis mumbles his words on Harry’s mouth. 

Harry smiles widely, dimples on show. “Really?” Harry breathes. 

Louis brings a finger to Harry’s dimple. “Yes, thats why I didn't want you to read it.” 

Harry brings both of his hands to Louis’ hair. “I’m writing about you too.” 

Louis murmurs in response and slowly brings his lips to Harry’s. The kiss lingers for a while as Harry feels himself getting hard. Just the feeling of Louis” hands and Louis” mouth has Harry going crazy. He opens his mouth to give him more access and Louis happily accepts. His tongue grazes his lower lip and nibbles softly at the bottom. Harry moans softly and grinds his hips slowly into Louis’, wanting to feel more. 

“Want more.” Harry mumbles into Louis’ mouth. Louis brings a hand and slips it in the back of Harry’s jeans. His hand palms Harry’s ass. 

“Fuck.” Harry breathes grinding harder down on Louis. Harry could feel Louis’ own erection pushing hard onto Harry’s own. A cool sweat forms on Harry’s forehead as Louis pushes his shirt up, showing his stomach. 

“So fit.” Louis mumbles as he pushes Harry off of him. He spins Harry around so Harry’s back is pressed up against his desk. Louis kneels down and presses hungry kisses on Harry’s abdomen. “You’re so hard for me, Curly.” He whispers breathlessly. His mouth grazes the fabric of Harry’s jeans, His mouth toying the fabric. Harry can only slightly feel Louis’ mouth because of the thick jeans. He whines, and moves his hand to the zipper. Louis pushes his hands away and grabs it with his own hands. 

“No touching.” He mumbles as he unbuttons the pants. He slides them down to Harry’s ankles. Harry’s small boxer briefs were wet with pre come. His mouth moved slowly on the fabric, licking the outline of Harry’s dick. 

“Fuck, Lou.. I need more..” Harry gasps breathlessly, pushing his hips to meet Louis mouth. “Please.” 

Louis then stands up, making Harry gasp. He smiles as their lips meet once more. Harry turns and switches places with Louis pushing him against his own desk. “Fucking tease.” Harry mumbles into Louis mouth. His hand grips Louis hips as he rocks into them. Harry reaches Louis button and unzips him. He slides his hand down Louis underwear and grabs his aching cock. 

“Suck me off.” Louis groans, his moans light and airy. Harry is getting off just on that. Eager to please Harry drops down to his knees and slides Louis underwear down his toned thighs. He gasps at the sight of Louis leaking erection. “Fuck, Lou.” He says. His lips lick his inner thighs, making Louis groan. Harry holds his hips in place, so he couldn’t thrust into him. Harry looks up at Louis.

“Fuck, Harry.” Louis groans. “Look so pretty like that.” With that Harry slowly puts Louis in his mouth. He is big and it takes Harry only a second to adjust. Harry starts slowly bobbing his head, finding a nice rhythm. He looks up at Louis again to see him staring intently. He’s wrecked. “Fuck, Harry.” He repeats biting his lower lip. Harry continued licking around Louis head, and playing with his balls. “Pretty lips.” Louis mumbles. He breaks eye contact and throws his head back in bliss. Harry continues, choking slightly as Louis hits the back of his throat. Louis’ hands wrap around Harry’s curls as he tugs slightly. It is beautifully tragic. 

“I’m gonna come, Harry.” Louis’ body shakes. Harry is so hard against his own underwear he can hardly stand it. Harry brings a hand off of Louis’ hips and forces it into his own pants. He gives his own cock a squeeze. “Let me fuck your mouth.” Louis says breathlessly. Harry stops bobbing his head, and looks back up at Louis. Louis starts slowly thrusting his hips. His cock hitting the back of Harry’s throat each time. “Fuck.” He gasps. Harry wraps his hands around the back of Louis thighs. “I’m gonna come.” He whines again. Seconds later, Harry feels the hot white liquid hit his throat. It doesn’t taste very good. Focusing on Louis he swallows. Louis is breathless and sweating above him. Harry stands up slowly, his knees red and aching from the floor. 

“My turn.” Harry smirks, bringing his lips to Louis'. “Maybe you can lean me over the desk.” He whispers into Louis’ feathery locks, he expects Louis to shudder or at least grin, but he’s already putting his pants back on, and fixing his hair. 

“Class starts in 25 minutes Haz.” Louis says. Harry stares at him, achingly hard. 

Louis smirks easily at him, as he walks over. He squeezes Harry’s bum and breathes into his mouth. “Filthy boy.” He mumbles. Harry closes his eyes in bliss, feeling his eyes roll back into his head. 

“You’re gonna have to wait.” 

Harry’s eyes pop open as he looks at Louis. He tosses Harry his jeans, and sits down at his desk. “Louis, I can’t.” Harry points to his aching erection. 

“Be a good boy aye?” Louis’ eyes are playful. “I will reward you later.” He winks. Harry is utterly speechless. “Later?” He asks. Louis looks at him and grins. 

“Yes, later, at my place.” 

“Your place?” Harry raises an eyebrow. 

“Mhmm.” Louis mumbles happily. 

“I don’t think I can wait, might have to finish myself off in the bathroom before class.” Harry teases. 

Louis’ eyes change. “You’re not getting off without me, I won’t allow it.” 

“You’re place then.” Harry says. His cock still throbbing through his thin cotton. 

“Yes, this is my only class today.” Louis pulls out a slip and paper and writes his address down. He hands Harry the slip. 

“Now put your pants back on before students start showing up.” Louis grins. 

Harry slides his jeans up his legs and shimmies into them. He has to avoid his still throbbing erection. He feels extremely uncomfortable with the aching bulge in his tight jeans. He shifts uncomfortable as Louis’ watches him with an amused smirk on his lips. 

“Come here.” Louis mumbles. Harry walks over and Louis presses a soft kiss to his lips. “You were so good, baby.” Louis whispers into his mouth. “I’m gonna treat you so good tonight.” Harry gasps and pulls away.

“Not helping, Lou.” 

Louis only smirks and sits back down. Harry gathers up his things and walks over his seat. He sits down and places his jacket over his lap. He can’t concentrate on anything. Just the feeling of Louis’ body on top of his, and their moans filling the room like music. 

++

Class starts and Harry can’t keep his eyes off Louis’ lips. His beautiful mouth that was on his just half an hour ago. Louis can’t keep his eyes off Harry either. His dick is still hard as a rock pushing against his pants. Every time Louis licks his lips or laughs, he feels it twitch, begging for his mouth. He shifts uncomfortably. Louis notices and smirks each time. Every single question is shot in Harry’s direction. Louis knows Harry is too wrecked to answer, but is enjoying teasing him. 

“Harold.” Louis clasps his hands behind his back. “In the Novel Wuthering Heights what effected Heathcliff’s transformation at the end of the book?” 

Harry looked at him with glossy eyes. “Um..” He stutters. His head is clouded and his dick is tingling, and all he wants to do is get Louis alone. “Can you..” He takes a breath. “Can you repeat the question.” He is so turned on he is dizzy. 

Louis lets out a fake sigh of annoyance. “Does anyone know the answer?” He gestures to the class. “Yes?” He points to a red headed girl in the far corner. 

“The changes that we see in Heathcliff at the end of the novel is eery to say the least. The always brooding, angry man, who is describes as dark because more human. He gains emotion.” She responds with a smirk in Harry’s direction. He’s too out of it to care.

“Did you get that, Mr. Styles?” Louis clicks his tongue. Harry just gives a small nods, his head still swimming. Thankfully Louis allows Harry to put his head down for the rest of class, well chooses to “ignore” him putting his head down. The class ends and students begin leaving. Harry and Louis are alone again. Louis puts his books in his bag and starts cleaning off his desk. Harry stands slowly, his erection some what better, but definitely not gone. Louis looks up at him and smiles as he notices Harry lingering by his desk. 

“Alright?” He asks, walking over to comfort Harry. 

“I thought I was gonna pass out for a second.” Harry laughs at his own dramatic response. Louis gives him a light pat on his bum. 

“Now we have the whole weekend to ourselves.” 

“I like the sound of that.” Harry smiles against Louis’ mouth, their teeth lightly hitting together. 

“Go pack some stuff.” Louis tells him.

Harry raises an intrigued eye brow. “Pack some stuff?” He repeats. 

“If your planning on staying over.” Louis scoffs playfully. 

“You want me stay over at your place.. Tonight?” Harry says slowly.

“No, Curly.. next week.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Yes tonight.” He puts a hand through his curls. “Just some clothes.” He whispers sweetly. His voice high. 

“Alright, I’ll be at your flat in half an hour.” 

“Alright.” Louis repeats. Harry turns to leave when Louis grabs him. 

“Kiss me, you fool.” 

Harry smiles again as his lips meet Louis’. Soft and sweet. He thinks he could get used to this. 

“Goodbye.” Harry says. 

“Goodbye.” 

++

The second Harry pushes open the door to his room he is met with a frustrated Niall. He is bent over going through his dresser, and throwing clothes throughout the room. He doesn’t look up when he hears the door close. 

“Can’t find a bloody shirt to go with these bloody pants.” He bellows angrily. 

“Sorry, love.” Harry says singlingly as he grabs a duffle bag from his closet. He brushes past Niall and starts filling it with some underwear and shorts. Niall finally looks up at him.

“Where do you think you’re-“ Niall’s eyes meet Harry’s crotch. Harry’s still stiff crotch. “Woah, mate I know you’re happy to see me but-“

“Shut up, Niall.” Harry says, chucking a shirt at him. Niall stands and starts laughing. 

“Oi, who you got that stiffy for?” He asks.

“No one.” Harry turns a deep red. 

“Bit of bullshit, innit?” Niall says. 

“I’m staying with Louis tonight.” Harry says. Even though Louis said no one could know about them, Harry never counted Niall out. He never kept anything from him. 

“Finally gonna fuck, I see.” Niall chuckles as he goes back to digger through his drawers.

“Shut up, Niall.” Harry says, but his blush deepens. He continues putting things in his bag and trying not to over think. He was about to leave when Niall calls his name.

“Yeah?” Harry asks turning to look at him. 

“Take one of these.” Niall tosses a small packet his way.

“I’m pretty sure Louis has these.” He throws the condom back at Niall. 

“You never know Harry.” Niall says sincerely. The fact that Niall actually cared about Harry’s safety made him feel bad. He reaches his hand out and takes he condom. He shoves it in his pocket and pushes open the door. 

“Thanks Niall.” He smiles. 

Niall gives him a cheeky grin. “Don’t make too much noise.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Will do, mate.” 

Niall salutes him and Harry closes the door. He makes a mental check to make sure he remembered everything. Laptop? Check. Underwear? Check. Shirt/pants? Check. Condom? Check. (Thanks Niall) After he is sure he has everything he makes his way out into the cool air. Winter was ending and the air didn't have the harsh chill it had earlier in the month. Harry flags down a cab and hands over the address. He then pulls out his phone and calls the hair studio. Helen answers a moment later. 

“Shear, Shave, and Shine, this is Helen.” Her clear, but bored voice comes through the speaker.

“Hey, Helen, It’s Harry.” 

“Oh, Harry, Hi.” Harry can literally hear the smile in her voice. 

“I can’t make it to work tomorrow.” He bits his lip, and decides if he should just tell her the truth. “I’m sick.” 

“Sick?” She asks. 

“Yeah.” Harry adds a small fake cough.

“Seriously? If you’re gonna fake sick, you need some better acting skills.” 

Harry feels himself blush. “Alright.. I’m not sick.” He admits.

“Really?” She asks in a disbelieving tone. 

“Can you just tell Chip I am though, please?” He asks.

“Sure.” She says. “Can I ask why?” 

“I met someone.” He admits.

“Ah, you found your Romeo.” She says. Helen was one of the first people to know Harry was gay. 

“Something like that.” Harry smiles to himself.

“I can always cover for love.” She says. 

“You’re the best.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Go find your happy ending.” With that, Harry hears the phone click off. 

++

Louis lives in a nice apartment. Harry walks in to the nicely decorated building and makes his way over to the elevator. He presses the 9th floor and waits. When he gets out he looks for the room number. 16B. He smiles when he spots it. He lifts his hand and taps lightly on the door. Seconds later it slides open and Louis smiling face appears. Harry is nervous. He kinda wants to call off the whole sex thing and just talk.

“Hello, Harold.” Louis smirks and leans against the door frame. He is clothed in casual attire. Sweat pants, and a hoodie. Harry had never seen him like this. He looked over his body is disbelief. He couldn’t believe this beautiful man… not to mention his professor has taken an interest in him. 

“Hello, Lou.” He says. Louis steps out of the way and gestures for Harry to come inside. Harry takes in the room. He has a small living room that is connected with the kitchen. A nice couch and flat screen t.v. A book shelf sits off to the side. Harry walks over to inspect the place. Pictures of a smiling woman with her arms wrapped around Louis is the first thing Harry sees. 

“That’s my mum.” Louis says walking over and slipping an arm around Harry’s waist. Louis reaches his another hand up and grabs the picture next to it. It is Louis laughing surrounded by a lot of girls.

“This is me with all my sisters.” He chuckles, hit breath hitting Harry’s neck. It was so weird to see all of this. To see Louis’ life. One that he had lived without Harry.

“You have a lot of sisters.” Harry feels himself smile as Louis laughs. 

“I love them all.” He sighs.

Harry turns to face him. “They’re beautiful.” Louis smiles and leans down to give him a kiss. Harry stops short when he hears a soft meow. Harry pulls away and looks down at his feet. He is met with a beautiful cat. Louis scoffs playfully and watches Harry bend down to give it a pet.

“That’s Poppy.” Louis says. He bends down to meet Harry’s eyes.

“You didnt tell me you had a cat.” He says. 

“It never came up. I couldn’t tell you when you had my dick in your mouth could I?” Lous teases. Harry stands up and feels his face flush. 

“Right.” Harry says. 

Louis walks over and grabs Harry’s laptop out of his bag. 

“What are you doing, Lou?” He asks. He walks over and sits down on the couch, Louis right next to him.

“You told me earlier that you had something for me to read.” Louis’ blue eyes shift to meet Harry. “But we got, uh.. Preoccupied.” Harry’s laugh filled the apartment. 

Harry grabs the computer from Louis and pulls up his unfinished file. He hands the laptop back and keeps his eyes steadily on Louis’. Louis reads intently his eyebrows creasing, and his eyes focus on the monitor. Harry shifts uncomfortably. Last time Louis read one of his works it did not go well. More and more minutes went bye and Harry is beginning to get restless. Oh no. He’s said too much in his story and now Louis is scared of him. He realizes he could do so much better and after he’s done reading his awful work he’s going to ask him to leave, and drop out of english, and never talk to him again. 

“This is different.” Louis murmurs, his eyes finally leaving the lit screen and focusing on Harry’s panicked face.

“What?” Harry asks, terrified.

“This is different than all of your essays, and the story of your sister.” He pauses. “When your sister left, you only focused on the bad things, the negative things. Instead of focusing on her getting a new beginning and discovering herself, you focused on the bad things, never seeing her, her getting mixed in with the wrong crowd. Same with your essays. You focused on the bad things in the books, not the good, but this..” He blinks.

“How do you know it won’t have a tragic ending, like all of my other stories?” Harry asks honestly. 

“I don’t know that.” Louis says. 

“Ive been trying to think of an ending all week.” 

“You can’t end this, Harry.” Louis cups his face.

“Why not?” Harry closes his eyes and cups his hand over Louis’. 

“Our story has just begun.” Louis whispers.

Harry opens his eyes to see the illumined Louis looking intently at him.

“You want our story to continue?” Harry asks in disbelief. Louis didn't hate him. 

“I never want it to end.” Louis pushes the laptop off his lap and moves closer to Harry.

“You are beautiful, and amazing.” He pushes a lone curl out of Harry’s eyes. “You don’t understand what you do to me. In class, since the very first day, I knew who you were. At the club, when I saw that boy dancing with you, I wanted to hit him.” He smiles softly. “Hard.” He breathes. “And I didn't even know you.” 

“I’ve written about you many, many times.” Harry admits. “I hated you, but I still liked you.” He lets out a dry laugh. “I know it’s cheesy, but if its gotta be anyone, its gotta be you..” He pauses. “Lou.” He adds and Louis’ eyes crinkle as he laughs. 

“You’re a dork.” With that Louis is kissing him. Different than the others. This time its not like he’s searching for something, he’s not hungry. His lips feel as if they know exactly were they belong, where they have belonged. He kisses Harry like they have infinity in their hands, and in a way they do. 

“Have you been good for me, huh?” Louis asks when he pulls away. Harry’s cock was sore as fuck from being shoved in his jeans, it had gone down some, but as soon as Louis filthy words hit the air, Harry feels it coming back, stronger.

“Always good for you, Lou.” He whispers against Louis’ mouth. Louis pulls Harry into his lap so he is straddling his thighs. He slips his tongue through Harry’s pink lips and grips his cheek. Harry moans in responses and curves his neck. Louis brings his lips to Harry’s ear and nibbles hungrily. “Fuck.” Harry gasps. A new. intense feeling shooting straight to his dick. 

“I’ve found your spot.” Louis mumbles running his tongue down his neck. Harry grips the back of couch as Louis bites little kisses in his neck.

“Mark me.” Harry breathes. He feels a pinch as Louis starts sucking little bruises onto him. “You want everyone to know you’re mine, huh?” Louis’ gasps between bites. “Want them all to know how filthy you are.” Harry groans in response and rocks his hips into Louis. “Please, more.” He begs. 

“Come on.” Harry slides off Louis and follows him to the bedroom. Their lips still locked as the fumble through the hallway. When they meet Louis’ door he opens it and throws Harry in there. It’s all hot and dirty, but Harry loves it. Louis kicks the door shut with his foot, his mouth still connected to Harry’s. Harry sits on the edge as Louis stands over him. He reaches down and takes Harry’s shirt off and takes off his own hoodie. Harry brings his hand up to paw Louis through his sweat pants. Louis pushes Harry onto his back so he is sprawled out on the bed. Louis bends over him and places kisses down his chest. Harry brings his hands up and grabs the end of Louis t shirt and pulls it over his head. “Still so hard for me.” Louis mumbles, his tiny hands working the buttons of Harry’s pants. He slides them down and Harry lifts his hips to get them down to his ankles. Louis grabs them and throws them on the floor. “Fuck.” He says. Harry pushes Louis aside and climbs up beside him. He pushes down Louis’ sweat pants takes them off of him. He grabs Louis’ hands and holds them above his head. He kisses down his stomach, flicking his tongue over Louis' sensitive nipples. 

“God, Harry.” Louis whines beautifully, arching his back. Harry’s mouth continues down Louis firm chest until he stops at his thighs. He licks the inside and palms at his dick. Louis wiggles under him. “Just fucking take them off.” He says, his voice ruff.

“Patience is a virtue, Lou.” Harry grins as he continues to rub Louis through his soaking underwear. Finally after teasing him for another minute he slides them down around his ankles. Louis’ cock is hard and leaking against his stomach. Harry places soft kisses along his shaft. Louis ruts his hips to Harry’s mouth. Harry is painfully hard and slides his own boxers off. “Will you fuck me Lou?” Harry whispers against his dick.

“Fuck Harry.” He whimpers. Louis sits up and kisses Harry, his hands wrapping into his curls. He then scoots closer to the edge of the bed and turns to open his bedside table. His arse is straight up in the air. Harry takes that as his chance to wrap a hand around his cheek and knead him tenderly. Louis’ whole body shudders and he leans back to the touch. “Jesus Christ, Harry.” He breathes for a moment, before reaching in the drawer to take out some lube and a condom. Harry smirks. He knew he had some. When Louis gets closer to Harry again, Harry kisses him, rutting his body against his. 

“Turn around.” Louis says breathlessly. Harry turns and lays on his stomach. Louis hands him a pillow and places it underneath his hips. Harry’s cock is rubbing against the sheets and his own stomach. Louis spreads out his legs and kneels between them. Harry hears a cap open and a wet finger slide between his cheeks. Harry lets out a loud moan, and tries not to rut his hips into the mattress. He feels Louis slide in one finger. “So tight.” He mumbles, pushing his finger knuckle deep before taking it out, and repeating. Harry is shaking as he tries to push Louis' finger in deeper. “Another, Lou, please.” He begs. Louis places a hand flat on Harry’s back and adds another. Harry feels so full. He moans again and rocks back on Louis’ hand. A second later Harry shudders as Louis hits his prostate. He clenches hard and Louis whines behind him. He adds another and Harry is falling apart. He continues to fuck him with finger until Harry can’t take it anymore. “I need you, Lou. Now.” 

“Fuck, Harry.” He slides his fingers out and unwraps the condom. He slides it on, and positions his cock outside of Harry’s hole. He slides in slowly and lets out a moan. “You’re still so tight.” He mumbles, as he feels Harry clench around his tight cock. He quickly finds a rhythm and grinds his cock deeper into Harry. Harry starts to feel his stomach muscles clench and he feels an orgasm coming. Louis is fucking him harder now, and letting out the prettiest moans. He leans down and Harry cranes his neck to give him a kiss. “So pretty, my pretty boy.” Louis says as he brushes a hair from Harry’s eye. He presses his hands onto Harry’s back and hits Harry’s prostate right on.

“Right there, Louis. Oh my god.” Harry grabs onto the sheets and grinds his own hips into the mattress. “I’m gonna fucking come.” He says.

“Ride me.” Louis says a moment later. He pulls out and lays on his back. Harry straddles his hips. He slowly presses down taking Louis cock. He groans and closes his eyes as he finds a steady speed. “You look so good like that.” Louis says putting his hands on Harry’s waist. Harry’s cock slaps Louis stomach as he fucks him. “You’re gonna make me come like that, Harry.” He whines. Harry brings a hand down to grab his own cock, but Louis pushes his hand away. “No. You’re coming untouched.” Harry moans and brings his hands down to Louis chest, for a steadier grip. He knew he was close. “I’m gonna come.” He says as he felt his climax build in his lower stomach. 

“Come for me.” Louis says, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. Seconds later Harry felt himself let loose all over Louis’ stomach. Just by looking at Harry’s dazed face and him clenching hard around his dick, Louis was coming seconds after with a loud whine, and calling Harry’s name. Harry gets off Louis and lays down next to him. Louis pulls off his filled condom and throws it away. He turned on his side to look at Harry. He was totally fucked out. His eyes glossy and his hair a sweaty mess. Louis brought up a hand through his hair. 

“So lovely.” He whispers. Harry smiles.

“I’m tired.” He says. He turns on his side and Louis nestles into him. He brings up the sheets and throws it over their bodes. Harry could feel the beat of Louis heart on his back. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. 

“Me too.” He mumbles into his mess of curls. 

“You said you wrote a play about me.” Harrysays fifteen minutes later. Louis smiles softly.

“I did.” 

“When can I read it?” He asks.

“Tomorrow love, I promise.” He kisses Harry’s head. The room falls silent, as the moon peaks through the blinds. 

“I made up a world filled with diamonds and gold, just for you.” Louis mumbles into the darkness, but Harry didn't hear, for he was already snoring softly, his chest rising and falling softly with every breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, loves! This was my first story! I hope you all enjoyed it :) Apologize for any grammar and/or spelling mistakes, I didn't really read over it.


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